The Trials of Driving

Let me tell you about Knoxville.

It SUCKS. Well, the DOT/roads do at least. The road atlas says one thing and little ole Knoxville has decided that No, No we won't mark the roads so that people where know where the hell they are going. let's cost them an extra hour of drive time just for fun.

Hehehe bite me Knoxville. I'm now immune to your wily ways.

And then there was the mobile home. The mobile home that was traveling down the highway. Which was all well and good until the roof shingles started flying off onto my Jeep.

le sigh.

I couldn't tell if the imprint left was dirt or if I was now the owner of a 12" x 12" roof shingle etched windshield. I debated a few seconds before I told my son who was driving at the time, to catch up to the pace truck. We did and I got a phone number off the truck. I called and explained they just damaged my windshield.

The man who answered my call was named Cowboy and he asked if I was in 'the black Jeep.' I guess he must have seen me having a hissy fit in the Jeep as we passed him.

So the three of us - mobile home included - all pulled over to the side of the highway to have a little pow-wow. Cowboy hopped down out of his mobile home pullin truck and took a look at my windshield and told me to call Joe. Joe would take care of me. I called Joe.

It seems Joe is going to take care of me.

I wonder if he's tall? err.. anyway..

Unless you count the nauseating aroma of pulp mills or dead skunk as problems, the rest of the trip was uneventful until we got to Palmyra. To get to Palmyra, you have to go through Hershey, PA.

As in chocolate Hershey.

OMG. A town that smells like chocolate. le sigh. Isn't life just wonderful sometimes?